Mulan II: Redone
by redroses2210
Summary: Mulan II but done right. Mulan faces the guilt of worrying her family as she goes on a crucial mission for the Emperor as well as the pressure to retire from her job as a warrior. The Huns might be gone, but the Mongols are coming with waves of destruction unparalleled. War, love, and pain.
1. Chapter 1

The warm, spring breeze laps gently at my face, smelling of sweet cherry blossoms that color the midmorning air a delicate blush. Per morning ritual, I'm cautious to not drop the humble cup of tea I bring my Baba as I walk up the smooth stone stairs to the temple. The smell of incense warming my nose, I tread softly on the shiny stone floor towards Baba's huddled figure. I wait patiently, as every morning, watching him, his whispers embodying his devotion. I asked once what he prayed so intensely about, and after pausing to think—which he does quite often before answering a question—he answered with a gentle smile,

"The jasmine flowers bloom when they are told to; the wind blows where it is lead to; the river flows as swift as it is commanded to; I live how our great ancestors will it to be. Only they know where our fortune lies."

His hunched body unravels and straightens, his bones seeming to creak with each movement, as he leans on his walking staff. He turns to me with a cheerful smile as always, taking the streaming tea from my hands and drinking it in one motion.

"How was your praying?" I ask, taking the delicate porcelain cup from his hands. He breathes in looking past me towards the towering mountains, seeming like sleeping giants blanketed under soft clouds.

"I asked our ever-sage ancestors what is to come of you," he replies, the serenity on his features showing a shadow of anxiety. The yellow rays of sun glisten on his eyes, his forehead set deep with wrinkles of hardship. After a silence, he continues, "The first time you fought in my place, I came to the temple every day, many times in the night when I was restless and unable to even lie to sleep. I came to ask desperately what had become of you. I pleaded to the ancestors to protect you since I had failed to do so. Now, you are leaving a second time, and I will be asking again—what has become of you." Guilt pierced through my chest, burning under my skin.

"Baba, I cannot stop you from worrying, but please understand that I have no other place in this world than to be sword in hand fighting for China."

Turning his glance to me, the tension in his face alleviates a fraction, then turning away, he begins his trek down the stone steps. I lean against one of the supporting columns, swallowing my urge to cry. I turn into the temple laying down the empty cup of tea on the floor and approach the large stone steps. Lighting a new stick of incense, I bow down and begin to pray weeping softly, the droplets leaving wet marks on the stone floor.


	2. Chapter 2

I lie still on my knees as I begin to feel my feet tingle, and I struggle to center my concentration on balancing my body and spirit. Fidgeting back and forth, I'm unable to sink into my mind like I used to when I was fighting. I clutch my hands together so hard I'm almost breaking the skin, and the knot in my chest keeps tightening exponentially harder and faster, making my heart accelerate and my teeth grind against each other. I open my eyes gasping for air seeing my reflection staring back at me in the glossy stone floor, my expression etched with strain.

Suddenly as if watching another human being, I see my reflection stand, her leather armor slowly morphing into a delicate wedding dress, made of bright red satin embellished with golden decorative pieces and black trim, and her eyes begin to cloud until they turn a menacing, gut wrenching black. Her expression turns blank, as all the muscles relax in her face. I stand up, my legs losing feeling and my heart accelerating dangerously, my vision begins to falter from standing up too quickly, and a scream begins to gurgle in my throat, but it stops just as the smell of smoke begins to fill my nose. I turn to find my home along with the other neighboring homes engulfed in flames. My city in the distance, Guafeng, in chaos and fire, like a fireball ready to explode. I run down the steps and through the gardens, and as I'm about to jump into my home, the roof collapses causing fiery wooden planks and bits to fly past me, and the fire begins to spread around me. The cherry blossoms' delicate and heavenly presence is being destroyed by the demons of fire eating them and turning them into ash.

"Baba! Mama! Nainai!" I scream helpless. I run around my house desperately searching for another entryway, tears beginning to fill my eyes. I speed past the gardens towards the stables to find Khan in a panic, and I hop on his back, riding out onto the road, shouting frantically for help but coming up useless. The red topped clay and wood houses are now completely drowning in fire, the once serene ethereal gardens are in chaos and destruction.

Movement in my peripheral catches my eye. Out of the flames engulfing my home, the wedding dress laden Mulan walks towards me, with eyes black as ink. My skin itches and my throat closes, I'm paralyzed to the spot where I sit on Khan as my arms and legs lose feeling. She stops just in front of me and opens her mouth inhumanly wide as a snake would to swallow a large rat.

I feel the cold stone pressing against my cheek and my heart pumping hard as my eyes shoot open. Rays of gold hit my face through the ornate openings on the side of the temple as I stand shakily and clear my throat feeling the dryness of my mouth. I walk unsteadily over to lean against the entryway of the temple and look down at my home, colored in the pink shadows of cherry blossoms and not on fire or black with smoke. The garden's dragon statue serenely guards my mama as she picks vegetables for our next meal and my nainai as she takes her midday walk to the stables.

I breathe in slowly and out, closing my eyes from the pain of the pounding ache in my temples.


	3. Chapter 3

The smell of boiled chicken and carrots travels into my room making my mouth water. My stomach growls with longing and sinks with dread, as I place my folded up undergarments in my small, worn leather satchel. I look around the simple, candlelit bedroom, consisting of nothing more than a bed and wooden cupboard. Glancing over to the cupboard, I grab the jade hair comb, glistening in the candle light. Picking it up, I handle it in my hands, running my fingers along the comb teeth and delicate cream bloom before finally wrapping it in a cloth and placing it in the depths of the satchel. I place the bag behind the cupboard and blow the candle out. A hum of light from the torches outside buzzes through the small decorative cutouts in the wall. The flame from a nearby torch flickers back and forth violently against the stone wall.

"Mulan, come help your Mama with the cooking." Nainai brings me out of my reverie, and I turn to see her frail frame in the low light, her eyes glancing to my cupboard before turning to leave. I follow her into kitchen, and I walk to the cooking fire to finish the greens, as mama begins serving the baozi, and Nainai serves the tea. After setting the meal, Baba appears from a back room, and we settle on the ground and begin to eat in silence, but it is soon broken by Nainai.

"When is your general coming to eat again?" She says raising her eyebrows slightly, smirking lightly. Mama freezes, her eyes piercing into mine.

"He's," I clear my throat, "been training the newly recruited soldiers for the front up north." A buzzing silence fills the air. Knowing perfectly well the incoming questioning that I would be bombarded with if we were not eating, I force a bite of a baozi bun down my throat.

Mama lays her chopsticks down, raising her right eyebrow slightly. "Has he written to you? It has been many weeks since he last visited."

"No, I have not heard from him since," Mama's eyebrow raises even higher, a muscle in her neck twitching slightly—her only tell. "But he has probably been doing survival training in the wilderness, so he would not be able to contact anyone." Mama picks up her chopsticks but does not continue eating.

"Training is tiring but training hundreds of young boys to become men is exhausting," Baba says, hoping to relieve the tension. A buzzing in the air gets louder; my ears begin to muffle, and my stomach turns over. The buzzing gets unbearable, and I almost cry out from exasperation.

"Mulan, no man, especially the general, is going to want a wife who is constantly putting herself in danger. You saved your father; you saved the Emperor; and you saved China. You honored our name. Is that not enough? Please, dear, when you were gone your father nearly died from the stress of our only child and daughter being sent to war. Do not put us through that again! Please stay and visit the matchmaker again; I'm sure she is willing to find you a decent husband after last time. Mulan, I have heard stories of the north at market, and the Huns cannot even compare to the brutality of these-these demons," Mama's breath hitches, a small sob coming from her chest, "please stay."

"Li, please, let's wait until we have finished our meal to discuss this." Baba says holding Mama's hand as she wipes the tears from her pale, plump cheeks with the other. I look down at my half-eaten baozi, now cold. I bite my lip to stop it from quivering. I have seen men die and their bodies mutilated by enemy soldiers, yet my family can make me crumble with conversation. I glance up to find Mama poking at her food and Nainai and Baba eating silently. The knot in my chest begins tightening again until a breath becomes impossible to take.

"Excuse me," I whisper as I stand up from the table, walk to my bedroom and take the satchel. I walk out the back door to the stables, silently jogging in the torch-lit gardens. The clucking of the chickens and the sound of the nocturnal insects mesh in the still night air under the moonless, black sky. As much as Mama begs me to stay, the Emperor's orders are not optional. While my family believes I will be heading a battalion by the sea, I will be hundreds of kilometers west accompanying the three most powerful women in the Middle Kingdom.

I strap a carrier basket to Khan as he huffs with anticipation, and I peek around the stable door to check the gardens are clear of wandering eyes. I kneel down to clear the hay at the far corner of the small stable and lift the loose floorboard to reveal my gear, and I begin strapping on the leather and chain armor.

"Mulan." I jump dropping my belt strap. Nainai's huddled figure enters the stable, smiling, holding a bundle in her hands.

"Nainai, I'm just making sure it still fits for tomorr—"

"I know. You should go before your mama straps you down. I know you do not like the idea of being a wife, staying at home, locked in one place. I see the glint in your eye when you train. You love the adventure and the rush, just like I used to." She reveals a gold handled dagger, glittering in the low light of the torches, from a leather holster. She hands the dagger and holster to me, and I delicately touch the freshly sharpened blade.

"I didn't know you had this, Nainai," I say puzzled, putting the dagger inside its holster again and strapping it around my middle, under my armor.

She giggles, "Oh, there are so many things you do not know about me. You need to go on, now, before your parents begin to suspect anything." She hands me my sword from the floorboard hiding place, and I strap it tightly around my hips, finally putting my hair into a high bun and fastening a cloak onto my shoulders raising the hood over my head. "Hurry now, I'll cover for you."

I sigh shakily, my throat burning from holding back tears. "Nainai," I whisper hugging her small fragile frame. "Tell Mama and Baba I love them more than anything. I will try to write too." I pull away studying Nainai's features, imprinting her face in my mind.

"Go on now. You have no need to worry about us." She squeezes my arms and treks off towards the house, her small silhouette disappearing into the gardens. I mount Khan and ride quietly until I reach the main gate, where I look back one last time at the place that holds my everything. I breathe in and out, looking up at the pitch-black sky, and I spur Khan on into a sprint down the dirt road into the night.


	4. Chapter 4

Giggles emanating from drunk, loose women mingle with the sound of crashing glass bottles. Prostitutes waiting for clients and bars buzzing with activity line the street. Wafts of pipe smoke and alcohol travel with the breeze burning my throat and causing my temples to pulsate. Riding through the Imperial City, I glance up the endless towering wooden buildings, lanterns lighting the windy stone roads on which suspicious business deals are made and drunk men stumble about. Men in bars sitting on stools drinking brown liquid from wooden cups with women in their laps turn their heads to eye me as I pass through, causing me to instinctively brush my hand against the handle of my sword. I urge Khan on to trek faster until I reach the dimly lit outskirts of the palace stone walls. As the instructions accompanying my orders entail, I head to the east side of the wall, reaching an area of overgrown bushes and ferns. I slide off Khan and begin pushing through the green shrubbery. I take my sword out to cut through the branches and vines until a light comes into sight. I stick my sword back in my holster and push through into the clearing, pulling Khan along. A vast wooden gate spans halfway up the gargantuan crimson wall, in front of which two burly imperial guards are posted, one taking a swig of something from a bottle then handing it to the other guard who promptly takes a swig as well. As I approach the two, I lower my hood to reveal my face, and they stand straighter, placing their hands on their swords.

"Identify yourself," the right guard orders, as he pierces me with his scrutinizing gaze. I hold out my orders and identification, and he yanks them out of my grip. He glances up from the papers at me, his eyes trailing down my body. He smirks handing the other guard my papers, and they share a look. Bile lurches in my throat, my heart beating hard. My hands steady themselves.

"Just let me pass," I say sternly, gripping Khan's reigns tightly, turning my knuckles white. The guard stalks up to me, his mouth curving into a sickening smile and his breath wreaking of cheap liqueur.

"I'll let you pass if you give me a kiss," he says, causing the other guard to let out a hearty laugh. I glance back and forth between the two guards, weighing my few options for escape.

The guard getting impatient, grabs me by my waist and pulls me in, and I kick him in the groin causing him to keel over in pain. I knee him in the face, blood splattering on the ground. Just as the other guard pulls his sword from its holster, I throw my dagger at the other guard, the knife sticking into his arm handle-deep, causing him to cry out, and I kick him in the throat. I grab his sword and throw it far from reach and take out the dagger from his arm now drenched in blood and wipe it clean on his face, causing him to expel a high-pitched moan. I pick up my identification papers off the ground and place the dagger back in its holster. I grab Khan's reigns and lead him in through the gate.

We walk through the gardens towards an opening in the palace in front of which a simple wooden carriage is stationed, led by two brown horses, one of which was being brushed by a tall, lanky figure—Ling. Yao, a stout soldier, and Chien-Po, a man capable of fitting four grown men in his gut, are carrying cases of supplies and loading them into the carriage. As I get closer, I catch Yao's eye.

"Mulan! Late as always," the boys smile widely greeting me, and my heart melts.

"I might be late, but I'm still your superior, so you three better watch out," I say, joining their laughter.

After hearing a rundown of the preparation from the three, I head over to a secluded horse stable nearby and tie Khan's reigns to a post, feeding him his grain and pumping water into a trough for him to rest. I sigh with fatigue and let my bun loose, leaning against Khan, feeling the ache in the back of my head growing in intensity. I hear a scuffle behind me, and I rapidly turn to strike, but a hand grips my forearm before it could make contact. My stomach flip-flops against my will; warmness spreads up through my chest into my cheeks. My face does not show the reaction, but I hesitate for a moment staring up at him, and I'm sure he catches it.

"Why is there blood on your hand?" he asks, worry etched in his expression.

"It's not mine." He smirks, my heart fluttering at his chuckle. He lets go of my forearm, but I feel its grip even afterwards. Anger bubbles in my stomach, reaching up into my throat.

"I trained you well," he says proudly, in a playful manner in contrast to his usual stoic persona.

"We should go help the boys load up, General," I say sharply, his wolfish smile disappearing at the formality. He searches my gaze. Before he can find anything, I turn to leave, but he catches me by the arm.

"I know I've been gone a long time. I'm sorry," his voice softening, "I should have written, but it was too risky." He pauses looking off, leaving momentarily, seeming to fight something within himself, then turning back to me. "Training the new soldiers took a lot this time, to prepare them for the front up north." The anger pierces through my chest making breathing difficult now. I attempt to relax my face to show disinterest.

"Training takes 8 weeks, but I figured, after 7 months, you were either too busy or dead. I obviously have no obligation to you, nor you to me, so I think it's best if you, as my superior, keep your hands off of me, so no suspicions are raised." Surprisingly I keep my gaze steady with his, and he lets go after a pause, his expression falling then going back to its usual stoic manner. I turn to Khan, untie him from his post my fingers shaking slightly and head towards the carriage. As long as the anger continues, it won't be difficult to keep my distance from Shang.


End file.
